


What I Remember About You

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Chance Meetings, F/M, Secrets & Lies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 16:11:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16936437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: No matter how many years might have passed, she would always recognize him cause no one smiles like Fox Mulder.





	What I Remember About You

“Dana Scully.” No one has ever said her name quite like this, like something to savor. No one except one person. A man she hasn’t seen in almost a decade. She turns, the busy chattering of the other customers in the coffeehouse fading away, and no matter how many years have passed, she recognizes him right away. How often has she wondered, no, fantasized about running into him? A romantic notion she held on to for longer than she cares to admit. How many times did she search his face in every crowd? No more. Here he is; the same boy, now a man. If she had any doubts before, they vanish as soon as his lips turn upward. No one smiles like Fox Mulder.

He reaches for her elbow with his free hand; he’s balancing two large coffees in the other, a pair of gloves dangling from his fingers. The customers behind them breathe a sigh of relief since they’re no longer blocking the line. They stand as close as if they were friends, not this strange pair of almost strangers. They haven’t seen each other in ten years and yet she feels like the same young woman again, the one who fell head over heels in love.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” He sounds just like he did back then; a little breathless, full of questions. His face is a different story, depicts a journey she can’t help but be curious about. A small scar on his cheek reminds her that they’ve both lived lives away from each other, no meeting point. She wants to know how he got it, if it hurt; she wants to know everything.

“Hi.” She is 18 years old again, shy and uncertain, searching for herself.

“Dana Scully,” he repeats, shaking his head in disbelief. She wants to taste her name from his lips like she once did. The unwelcome memory causes her to blush. He either ignores it or doesn’t notice. “I haven’t seen you in so long. It’s been-”

“Ten years,” she interrupts.

“Yeah, ten years.” The grin doesn’t leave his face until one of his gloves sails to the ground when he tries to get a better grip on his coffee cups.

“Oh!” They exclaim in unison, both kneeling to pick it up. Their eyes meet as each of them holds one end of the glove.

“Your eyes are still as blue as the ocean on a clear day,” he says, his voice a warm caress.

“Yours still look like the muddy sea,” she counters. She wants to look away, but she’s never feared the water, neither the ocean nor the sea.

“Why are you here? Why now?” Pain breaks out of him, drips from his voice and she catches it like she caught the snowflakes that night ten years ago; that night she first kissed him.

“I- I live here now.” Her voice somersaults. She can blame the weakness in her knees on the awkward position. The shakiness she feels run through her like a current, though, that is all because of him.

“How long?” His question is a desperate plea. They’re still clinging to his glove as though it were a lifeline connecting them; it’s soft, high quality. Something a wife might get her husband as a Christmas present.

“Four years.” He pulls at the glove and she stumbles, almost falling forward as her fingers open and the garment slips out of her grip. Mulder stands, stuffing his gloves into his coat pocket. He doesn’t offer her a hand as she gets up herself. Her eyes search his hands; no ring.

“Did you ever even try to look for me?” She can’t answer. So many things he doesn’t know. Things she can’t tell him in the middle of a coffeeshop, on a snowy Tuesday morning. She half wishes he’d never seen her here.

“Did you?” She knows him like this, tenacious to a fault. “Or was I just the guy you fucked during your skiing vacation?” Mulder whispers these last words, but in her ears they reverberate like shouts.

“That’s not fair.”

“I just want to know. Did you forget me as soon as you went home? Because let me tell you something, I didn’t. I spent years thinking about you. Years, Dana. I kept waiting for a letter or a phone call. But nothing.” Tears pool in her eyes. Her hands ball up into fists; the longing to reach out and touch him too strong. She once asked Melissa if the yearning would ever stop. Her sister had never answered. Now she understands why.

“I just want to know what happened, Dana.” Oh those eyes. They were the first thing she noticed about him ten years ago on a day not unlike this, high up on a mountain, fresh winter air stinging her cheeks and nose. They were the second thing she fell in love with. Right after his brilliant mind. See the stars, Dana? He’d whispered one night when it was just the two of them, their snow suits rustling as they ran through the thick, creaking snow. One day I’ll pick you a star, put it on your finger, and we’ll be one. She’d kissed him, their lips half frozen, laughing against each other. He was her first; first kiss, first love, first time. For two weeks he was her everything.

“Nothing happened. The holidays were over and we both went back to our lives.” What a lie; her life was never the same again.

“I gave you my address, my phone number. I should have- I wrote to you and you never answered. I should have known. I guess this solves a ten year old mystery.” His laugh is as bitter as black coffee. Mulder picks up his waiting cups again. Two. There is someone in his life, someone he gets coffee for.

“It was nice seeing you again, Dana.” The monotony in his voice belies his words.

“You, too, Mulder. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I was young.” More memories snow down on her, unasked, uncalled for. Call me Mulder, he’d said as he showed her how to hold the skiing sticks. I hate Fox, he added when he saw her bewildered face. I’m still just Dana, she’d answered feeling like a naive little girl. You’re never just anything to me, he’d said with a grin so bright it almost blinded her. She was young, yes, but that’s not the reason. Not at all.

“Take care of yourself.” He nods at her and walks out of the coffee shop, out of her life. He holds the door for a tall brunette without so much as glancing at her or the small boy with messy brown hair that sticks out from under his hat.

“Mommy!” He yells and throws himself at Scully, his big eyes smiling up at her. The color of muddy seas, she thinks. Just like his father’s.

“Hey baby boy, I missed you.” She hugs him close, her own eyes searching for the man she lost. But he’s gone already, gone again.


End file.
